


Me, Myself, and I

by Noelleian



Series: Bottom!Heero Week [1]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Anal Fingering, First Time, Inexperienced!Heero, Masturbation, Mentions of Past Indoctrination, Other, Sexual Repression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 10:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8369167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noelleian/pseuds/Noelleian
Summary: For Bottom!Heero Week, Day One: (1x1).After a lifetime of not being permitted to experience the pleasures of his body, Heero solicits Quatre's advice about what to do regarding his deeply personal "problem".





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, here's Day 1 of Bottom!Heero week. I don't know if I'll get every day, but I will definitely have a 5x1 story posted later in the week in addition to this one. This is an annual event so stories posted next year, the year after, the year after, and so on will be posted in this series so even if I only get two done this year, there will be more added in the years to come. ^.^
> 
> Day 1 is Heero/Heero which can be clone!fic, masturbation, etc. I decided on a masturbation story this time around because I wanted to explore what I headcanon as Heero being rather...shall we say, sexually repressed thanks to his Perfect Soldier training. I hope you enjoy this little piece and please let me know what you think by leaving a comment. Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own so please don't sue little ol' me.

During Heero’s intensive years’ long training to become the “Perfect Soldier”, he’d never been permitted, much less encouraged to tend to the needs of his body beyond the consumption of sustenance for energy, the drinking of water to prevent dehydration, and maintaining hygiene and basic grooming practices. Only the things that kept him alive and in tip top physical condition so as to complete his missions as flawlessly as possible.

What Doctor J and Odin Lowe had failed to take into consideration was the fact that young males need sexual release regularly in order to sustain optimal performance. Heero’s involuntary, pubescent erections were deemed an unnecessary distraction to his goals and he was forced to ignore them until his body was so pent up, nocturnal emissions became his only reprieve.

He didn’t realize he’d been sexually stunted until well into his late twenties. Even long after peace was declared, during a time when Heero could freely explore his sexuality, the psychological damage had already been done. Instead of addressing his body’s sexual requirements, he ignored them as he’d been trained to do, but he found the older he got, the more difficult it was to fight the temptation to reach into his pants and touch himself.

He was twenty seven. He’d never once masturbated in his entire life and he didn’t know what to do about it. He couldn’t even properly pursue a sexual relationship with anyone thanks to an entire childhood and adolescence of discipline designed to teach him to ignore his bodily functions aside from the bare necessities.

He spent many sleepless nights lying awake in bed with a raging hard on and desperately battling with himself to obey orders that were no longer applicable. He agonized over the decision to confide in someone, ask for some advice. Never one to seek help, it went against everything he was. It wasn’t until he finally gave into the urge after a week without sleep and tugged himself off at four in the morning while tears of shame, frustration, and relief rolled down his cheeks.

Duo was not an option. He meant well, but the former Deathscythe pilot often lacked a filter between his brain and his mouth which meant he could be callous and crude with his approach.

Trowa was definitely a possibility. He was smart, gentle, and tactful and Heero knew Trowa would never tell another soul what was said between them in confidence. Still, Trowa could be a little icy on occasion and Heero didn’t want to catch him during one of the those times, especially when it came to such a delicate situation.

Wufei was a definite no. Intelligence aside, he was haughty and judgmental. If he didn’t laugh at Heero’s “problem”, he would probably sneer and tell him to quit acting like a pussy. They weren’t even close to begin with and Heero had long suspected that Wufei was likely sexually repressed himself.

He might be able to confide in Relena. She was sympathetic, understanding, compassionate. But she was also a girl and it was beyond embarrassing to even consider telling her about this. And Heero didn’t want pity anyway. Pity was worse than being laughed at.

The safest candidate was Quatre. They were close. Extremely close and Heero trusted him with every atom in his body. Quatre would be empathetic instead of sympathetic which was exactly what he needed. Quatre would listen quietly until he’d gotten everything off his chest and then that strategic mind of his would calculate every possible option, scenario, and gauge which ones were most likely to lead to the best outcomes. He wouldn’t judge, sneer, laugh, scoff, dismiss, or make comments that would only deepen Heero’s discomfort. Quatre was the only way to go.

With that decided, he finally slept for the first time in seven days with his sated cock limp against his thigh.

And Quatre not only came through for him, he offered additional suggestions that would enhance Heero’s sexual experience. At first, Heero had not been keen on such suggestions and Quatre reassured him that he didn’t have to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with.

Quatre helped put the obsolete soldier part of his mind to rest and gradually, over time, Heero became more comfortable with himself and his body. More confident and sure of himself and that led to curiosity and the desire for more exploration.

He’d had yet to attempt the last of Quatre’s suggestions and it took nearly a year before he conjured up enough courage to try it. He’d been beating off on the regular and had even tested uncharted waters by lifting his knees to his chest, allowing the cool air of his bedroom to brush against places he’d never considered sexual before.

The feeling of being exposed, the discovery that pleasure unlike anything he’d ever experienced before could be found in such a place, coupled with his recently acquired vivid imagination was enough to finally tip the scales in favor of going for it. It seemed like such a dirty thing to do. Dark and delightfully sinful. The kind of thing God-fearing people would wring their hands and clutch their pearls over, but secretly indulged in the carnal temptation behind securely locked doors. Biting and drooling on their pillows to smother their shameful vocalizations and begging their Lord and Savior to forgive their transgressions even while they moaned and bleated and pleaded for more.

Quatre told him to invest in quality lubrication and Heero had spent a rather absurd amount of time online researching lubricants for the best one. When it finally arrived, his hands shook as he tore open the box, mentally chiding himself over the fact that he was getting worked up over a bottle of lube.

In reality, it wasn’t the lube that had his adrenaline flowing, his heart thumping wildly, or made his breath quick and shallow. It was the knowledge of what he was going to _do_  with it. Quatre was extremely detailed in his directions of how to go about it. It would have been humiliating if Heero hadn’t been so intrigued and dare he say it? Aroused by the concept. He never even knew that men had erogenous zones inside them. Quatre had referred to it as a “g-spot”. And if touching his penis brought such intense pleasure, he was dying to find out what being touched  _inside_  felt like.

Quatre advised him to have a routine. Especially before his first time attempting anal penetration. The rule of thumb was pretty simple. The more relaxed he was, the better and less painful the experience. Heero wasn’t much of a bath person, but Quatre recommended he take a hot one to relax his body and mind and Heero could admit, after a forty five minute soak along with some lavender scented oils, that he should take any and all future inquiries to Quatre.

After lighting a few candles and turning on some soft music, also at Quatre’s behest, he settled down on top of a towel he’d laid out over his bedspread to keep it clean. Even during the worst of his pent up arousal, he’d never been as worked up as he was now. The relaxation techniques seemed to heighten the thrill without the tenseness and anxiety that usually accompanied it.

His cock was hard and throbbing deliciously and he wrapped trembling fingers around himself, working his hand over the rigid length and enjoying the warmth that spread throughout his body. He kept his pace slow and gentle, teasing. Tonight’s orgasm was reserved for prostate stimulation and apparently there was a difference between penile orgasm and prostate orgasm. Quatre had described the latter as an unbearable internal itch that would invoke a desperate need for friction and he insisted that once Heero experienced it, his body would come to crave the sensation.

He toyed with his cock until his legs quivered and the anticipation was too much to bear. He fumbled for the tube of lubricant he’d dropped beside him and flipped open the cap, squeezing a generous amount onto his fingers. Quatre’s last bit of important advice was that you could never have too much lube, but you could have too little. In this case, less was not more.

He went slow and easy, taking the time to spread the lube liberally over his twitching opening. With a deep breath and a final command to his muscles to remain lax, he cautiously breached the tight ring with the just the very tip of his index finger. When nothing adverse happened, he chanced pushing it a little deeper, hissing at the slight discomfort.

_Bear down. Bear down. It will be uncomfortable at first, but it doesn’t have to hurt if you take it slow. If you need more lube, use more lube. The prostate is located just at the base of your bladder. Find that and you’ll never look back._

Heero nodded in acknowledgment at the echo of Quatre’s voice in his head and steeled himself, blowing all the air out of his lungs before pushing in further. The discomfort increased, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle and there was no pain yet, so he figured he was doing it right. He slid his finger in at a slow, steady pace, trying to remember to keep his breathing regular and his body relaxed.

_Once it’s all the way in, just stay still for a moment and just feel it. Let your body get accustomed to the sensation and when you’re ready, you can pull it back and then push it in again. There’s no rush to push another finger in. Do it at your own pace._

He kept his eyes open, staring up at the blank ceiling and concentrating on the music tinkling from the small speakers mounted on the wall. It was some kind of new age thing, designed with meditation and relaxation in mind and he had to admit, it helped a lot. His finger slid all the way in with minimal effort and he paused with his knuckles pressed against the cheeks of his ass. He held his hand flush against himself and wiggled the digit around, trying to get familiar with the inner workings of his body.

His brain registered the feel of warmth, wetness, and the tight clench of muscles around his finger. There was a faint tickle, somewhere inside, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was, or where it was coming from, but he did know he wanted to explore it and find out if he could make it stronger. It was pleasant and unpleasant at the same time. Almost an itch like Quatre described.

He pulled his finger out slowly and then pushed it back in, a little faster than he had the first time and to his surprise, the tickling sensation increased. He found himself overcome with an uncontrollable urge to move faster and within a few minutes, he was thrusting in and out at a moderate pace.

It was indescribable. The tickle felt so  _good_ , but it also felt like something unresolved. Unfinished, and the stronger it became, the needier he was to quench it. Sweat broke out across his skin. His breathing was loud in the small bedroom, whistling past his lips in harsh pants. His heart thudded against his rib cage as he worked the finger in faster and deeper, his head beginning to toss back and forth on his pillow, his eyes closing involuntarily.

He knew he’d found his prostate when his fingertip scraped against a place that had his body arching off the bed and a loud moan escaping from his trembling lips. His eyes popped open in shock for a brief moment before they rolled back beneath fluttering lashes. Quatre was right. That first taste made him ravenous for more and he sought that painfully exquisite place again and again, discomfort completely forgotten in the face of erotic bliss.

He barely had the patience to stop and lube up his middle finger, but his desperation for more overrode the momentary lull of stimulation. He was quick and clumsy, desperate to get back to it and sucked in a sharp breath as the addition of his second finger stung more than the first. He slowed down again, reminding himself to take it easy. He waited a little longer once he got them both all the way in, but quelled the agonizing itch by rotating his fingers within the tight confines of his body which also aided in loosening the path enough for the painful spasms to subside.

He crooked the tips of the two fingers up, aiming for the base of his bladder. Quatre also informed him not to empty his bladder completely as it made the pleasure even more powerful. Not a full bladder which could be uncomfortable, but not an empty one either. When he grazed the walnut-sized gland, his body jolted and he let out a deep, guttural moan. It was more than enough for him to withdraw and begin thrusting. He parted his thighs wider and lifted his knees towards his chest, shoving his fingers into himself at a frantic pace, helpless to the rapture.

It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. The bliss was strangely reminiscent of the otherworldly feeling he had when he’d self-destructed. He felt as though he was outside of time and space. A floating, omniscient entity of energy and sensation, bodiless and eternal. All he could do was  _feel_. He was fairly certain that if someone broke in with the intent to kill him, he still wouldn’t be able to stop fucking himself to fight off the intruder. While some distant part of his brain told him that should alarm him, he found he didn’t give a shit. He’d probably just beg his would-be assassin to let him finish himself off first.

While he was tempted to see if he could come from prostate stimulation alone, Quatre told him that was pretty rare, especially for the first time. Either way, his cock throbbed and drooled onto his lower belly, begging to be touched and he indulged it, wrapping his left hand around it and tugging the turgid flesh. He was clumsy, uncoordinated as his usual “wank” hand was currently occupied with other important matters, but the duel stimulation was enough to quickly bring him to the edge of oblivion.

It took only a few more thrusts of his fingers and pulls of his hand and then his body bowed, sharp and rigid like a bow string under tension. His breath stuck in his throat as his groin flared and pulsed, sending waves of liquid heat out through the slit of his cock and igniting sparks along every nerve. He felt the hot splatter of come streak up his chest and drip onto his chin. He could no longer put direct pressure on his prostate, but he placed the tips of each finger on either side of it, rubbing frantically over the surrounding nerves to prolong his orgasm.

When the pinnacle of rapture finally passed, he sagged, boneless and sated across his bed, sweating and panting from exertion. He felt overheated and exhausted, but better than he could ever remember. A tiny smile tugged up the ends of his mouth, delirious with sexual satisfaction. He pulled his fingers out carefully and dropped his arm onto the bed, remembering at the last second to keep his hand on the towel so as not to get bacteria on his bedspread. He would have to wash his hands in a few minutes, but for now, he was content to bask in the delightful afterglow.

 _You’ll probably be a little sore in the morning, but after a while, you won’t even notice it,_ Quatre’s voice piped up inside his head.

“Oh, it’ll be worth it,” he slurred through numbed lips into the stale, muggy air of his room that now smelled of sweat and sex. “It was worth it. Thank you, Quatre. I am forever in your debt.”

_End._


End file.
